Is creativity a spider’s web?
Spider’s web and Street Light. Photograph by author.
Am I a spider?
Weight of light & fragility of webs. Photograph by author.
Plastic bunting is noisy and flappy. It’s a buzzy sort of sound — distracting and attracting attention at the same time. Today has been a zoom call day, and my thoughts keep flapping.
Walking on the high street, I’m looking for a photograph combining fragile and weight. The bunting and the tall buildings perhaps? It’s then the spider’s web catches my eye. Balanced between the street lamp and suspended cables. Catching any Luke Skywalker fly attempting the high street pass.
The search for this photograph began with Tracey Emin, What do Artists Do All Day? and an article I wrote on this. I am trying to figure out how to combine photography, creating something, writing, laundry and the got-to-dos. I’d got some idea of the balance between the creative side and finance, but not between the creative side and home life. The light bulb moment came with Emin’s observations on Louise Bourgeois’ “Poids”.
This counter-weighted sculpture combines weights on one side and fragile crystals on the other connected by an arc. For the artist, this is a very feminine structure, but for me, it combines the balance I’m trying to achieve in an ordinary day.
The stable, reliable, down-to-earth, caring part represented by the weights, and the fragile, pretty, delicate crystal part representing dreams and ideas. The crystals remind me of health food shops, with rainbows in the display window. Crystals in rocks, reminding me that these were mined.
Sturdy pit shafts to extract minerals held in thin lines in veins.
Maybe creative projects are like this too?
Mines with heavy wooden beams, and pit ponies taking out the rubble. Glittery stuff that sparkles or is extracted to make something else.
Crystals take a long time to grow.
Glass obsidian does not have crystals.
It cools too fast for them to form.
It is unstable and degrades to pumice.
To scrub dead skin off your feet in the bath.
I should give my project time.
What does holding the image of this artwork enable me to do? It allows me to explore questions, and analyse what I’m trying to balance, particularly the relationship between the parts. When I want to work on the pretty, but the weights are working loose. When I want to work on the weights, but the crystals start clattering, and I’ve forgotten about them. The image gives me a way of figuring out where I am, what I’m doing, and how to keep the balance.
Taking the image out of my head, and looking for physical representations in my world helps me give depth to the understanding.
I see it during the dog walk. Autumn plants are in a spindly seed state and need picking out of the dog’s fur when he brushes past them. The mountains in the backdrop are grand and breathtaking taking up space and sky.
Looking closer, they too are fragile. The large mountains of gypsum which were historically mined for plaster are eroding rapidly, carried away by rivers to form new rocks.
In town, the summer bunting and the delicate spider’s web represents the fragile. I notice the web because the recent rain has left droplets. Its delicacy is contrasting with its purpose. There’s a metaphor for art.
Louise Bourgeois became well known for her giant steel sculptures of spiders. The fragility of the legs and the strength of the piece represented motherhood. Although her own experiences were complex, her work can inspire me in how I balance my roles and realise that when all the pieces are working together, it is more than the sum of the parts. When I’m looking for reassurance, these images remind me to ask “Overall, is it ok?”.
Image of streetlight and spider’s web taken in Moutiers. Part of the Balance project.
Blog first published in Medium.
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